Faces and Eagles
by Majestic Danger Floof
Summary: The reapers have arrived, the galaxy is on the brink of extinction. Ezekiel Xanthius of the Ordo Malleus finds himself in the middle of a war of survival, yet not the kind he is acquitted with. Shepard gets some new allies and the galaxy holds it's breath. Rating is due to language and violence.
1. prologue

**Prologue**

25 July 2186

The martian night was cold however one room in the base was colder than the others. Sitting alone surrounded by monitors and haptic interfaces is a single asari. Known to rest of the research team as liara in this room and in the greater galaxy she is the Shadow Broker. Countless sources all streamed information to this room from the elcor ambassador's lunch menu to top secret spending within the Turian Navy. The same name appears again and again in intelligence reports and clandestine budgets; Project Aegis. She has no idea what it is, but the people involved are known to her Admiral Mikhailovich of the system alliance; turian General Sparticus; a member of the Salarian STG reference only as The Doctor and a handful of asari matriarch. The secretive nature of this operation increase massively in the last month, ever since the SSV Orizaba was redirected during her shakedown cruise.

The whole galaxy was on edge everyone was waiting to see if the humans would set a date for the trail of Jennifer Shepard. The once lauded hero had allegedly destroyed the system of Bahak by launching an asteroid into the local relay. All ready the media circus had started with numerous high profile individuals coming out in the specter's defense. Her personal favourite was a quote from Spartacus himself which stated, "Shepard was insubordinate and argumentative, but he had yet to see anything that suggested she would carry out this kind of attack without very good cause." Garrus had sent her that in a letter stating he might have finally got through to top ranking members of the hierarchy that the Reapers had to be taken seriously.

* * *

15th August 2186

Mikhailovich sat watching the month old recording. Its subject was one of the individual's captain Shepard had picked up and after a few weeks convinced to work with them. They had been at Arcturus since June and still he was a mystery. Styling himself as an Inquisitor of some Imperium of Man he was still almost impossible to read.

"Sir?" the Yeoman's voice snapped him from his reprieve, "The Minister is here for your meeting . Shall I ask him to wait?"

"No Carter, send him in." Mikhailovich replied shutting down the display and standing to greet his guest. The meeting went the same as the ones before; the minister asking questions to which he wanted answers and the admiral giving the same lies parliament needed to hear. "No Project Aegis is not real, the navy would never hide it's actions from parliament or the council." Left alone once more he reactivated the video to watch as his latest asset the Inquisitor Xanthius started giving interrogation advice to men who were supposed to be conducting an interrogation. Looking through his files Mikhailovich read the report once more. The elder Shepard's writing succinct as always "Unexplained sensor reading from uncolonised garden world. Crash site of unidentified craft found. Six survivors brought on board; four adult humans, one juvenile, and one large domesticated hound" those few dozen words were the first interaction the Alliance navy had with these Imperials. A group who had turned out to be very useful in the last month despite being the biggest headache in the admiral's life.

* * *

 **Author's Note** :

So this is a concept that has been bouncing around my head for the better part of two and a half years, so I thought I'd write it and fire it up on here. for those of you expecting Grimdark 40K over running Mass Effect that's not going to happen here. My 40K characters will appear more human than some, but still be the brutal fighters they should be.

I wouldn't say no to extra Betas, and feel free to leave as critical a review as you wish.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter I

Arcturus Station, like many structures both military and civilian had areas where few ever travelled. One such area was the labs and firing ranges of the Advanced Armour Project, an unknowing subgroup of Project Aegis. These normally quiet corridors had seen an increase in activity in the last few months with the testing of the T5-V battlesuit, the latest advancement in armoured combat exoskeletons. Currently fifteen elite graduates of the N7 program chosen to be the first to wear these suits were running full speed through the corridors of the station. Using Mass Effect micro-boosters to vault obstacles and numerous weapons to dispatch the targets that pop up before them. The men appear almost invincible. However each man within the suit of armour still feels the fear of disappointing the training officer.

Coming to a halt and falling into formation within one of the many ranges the soldiers finally appear to relax. Waiting for them is their civilian instructor Mordhan. A large brute of a man his hardsuit devoid of any insignia or identification. Unlike the soldiers he doesn't wear a helmet allowing his long braided hair to spill over his shoulders. Official records show no evidence of this man either in the military or out of it but each of the men know he could easily pass any regime the extreme training specialist at the ICA in Rio could throw at him. A deep primeval growl announces the entrance of his prefered method of ensuring the troops moved as fast as possible, a large slate grey wolf easily four feet tall and over two hundred pounds in weight; each of the trainees had at one point slowed too much and been brought to the ground by the huge beast.

"Heel!" Mordhan's sharp command brings the troops before him to attention as the massive beast pads across the room to his side, "Thirteen and a half minutes. Good time. I believe you can go faster, but today is your last day here. Starting tomorrow you will leave. The first of, hopefully, many of a new class of soldier. Your designation as 'N7' will remain but you will now be recognised as passing the Destroyer training." He pauses for a moment to let the cheering calm down, "Personally I would like nothing more than push you until you can each run these courses in under ten minutes with four days of sleep deprivation, but the admiral tells me killing people in training exercises is to be avoided. So if any of you have anything you wish to say to me now's the time."

One of the men steps forward removing his helmet as he does. "Sir, I think I speak for all of us when I say, as much as we would love continue to train under you until dropping alone into a firefight with only a spoon seems like a walk in the park. We would much rather you joined us for some well deserved drinks before we all run from this place." Mordhan smiles at the comment .

"Fine, stow your gear and one hour from now be in the mess, dismissed." With the debriefing over the assembled soldiers start removing their gear, cursing at pulled muscles and tired bones.

Mordhan moves away from the group once more noticing what separates him from these Alliance marines. While they still saw war as some great adventure he had lived it all his life. Some strange machination of The Enemy Beyond had brought him here far from his home with his master and his team. To a point in mankind's history where not only were aliens not at war with humanity but instead actively helping them build a stronger community. That same master was standing by the door waiting for his debriefing of the soldiers to finish.

"The admiral requires our presence at a meeting. Most likely to explain to him, and those he has chosen to assemble, the meaning of total war once more." The Inquisitor's verbose nature often irritated those who had dealing with him, but years of working together had forged an understanding between him and Mordhan. The two men crossed Acturas without much attention despite the massive canine slowly walking at their side. The alliance personnel who were stationed here knew either the details of who they were or knew not to question things classified to the point where the parliament a few decks above them had no idea what was going on.

The meeting room set aside from them was already filling when the two Imperials arrived. At the head of the table sat Admirals Michailovich and Hackett the rest of seats taken up by the rest of their little conspiracy. This was a the group who not only believed the warnings of Commander Jennifer Shepherd but also believed that the council races were not prepared. Unlike most political groups nearly every person in the room was a soldier of some form. As a result; no one guarded their words hoping to one up the others in the room. Xanthius took a seat between a volus engineer and an asari commander while Mordhan sat in his normal place next to the captain who had rescued them. Hannah Shepard smiled at him as he sat down, her hand moving to scratch the chin of the wolf now resting on her leg.

"I assume if we're all here the admirals are finally going to go public." she remarks with a whisper to Mordhan

"I doubt it." He replies, "If you told your Parliament. Nothing would get done."

Shepard's laughter is barely contained as the meeting starts. The normal talk of munition stockpiles and ship upgrades maneuvered into debate regarding the construction of a second volus dreadnought. A rumour that the individual from Elkoss confirmed was not true. The truth was they were actually up gunning the Asari Sixth Fleet in preparation for war. The meeting lasted a little under an hour. The room empties quickly as groups disperse throughout the station and the few ships docked there. Soon Xanthius, Mordhan and Michailovich were left alone the two imperials waiting for the admiral to speak.

"Gentlemen your rather unique skills are required." The admiral stated. "As I'm sure you're aware we need to bring in a member of the council to our group. We're reaching the point where we need someone high ranking enough to shield us if and when the politicians and the public find out."

Xanthius nodded before responding "Since even we know how badly the alliance thinks of our esteemed Councilor Udina, I assume we will be speaking to one of the others." His comment was met by a wry smile from Michailovich.

"Correct, a meeting has been set up with Councilor Sparatus. I know you try not to work with xeno, as you call them, but if you're going to help humanity you need to get over what's left of your prejudices."

Xanthius tried not to show his discomfort. While he had at times fought alongside xeno is was against the far greater threat of chaos. His next words were as unemotional as he could make them hoping his distrust of the turians would not be evident. "When do we leave admiral?"

"Your personal pilot has finally assured the Alliance flight school that she can handle any of the small vessels likely to be available to you. She's back at your disposal Ezekiel. One last thing. I've chosen not to alert your associate to the fact you are going to be on the citadel."

Xanthius nods in thanks to the admiral before leaving the room. The associate he had mentioned was the one member of his team he hoped to leave alone in this new world. Whereas Mordhan was a soldier and dedicated to the defense of humanity his old armourer was far more free spirited. So after the few weeks of quarantine she bid her farewells and left for a job Admiral Hackett managed to get her on the Citadel.

Deep within the Serpent Nebula lay The Citadel, home of the council it's ambassadors and all their associated bureaucracy. Nestled deep within the arms of the station lay the glittering heights of the sunset strip. Home to every form of entertainment known to the galaxy the streets of the strip were a permanent bustle of commerce. With the increased mercenary activities in the traverse the arms business was growing ever faster.

Beneath the bowels of the Armex Arena sat one such business. Little more than a rough shop front in the entrance of a warehouse Sikorskie's had a reputation among the mercenary community. At that moment Sikorskie himself was looking over the work from his new assistant. The weapon before him had, at some point in its recent history, been a M-15 Vindicator. A fine rifle capable of accuracy over long ranges if slightly lacking a full automatic option. Now it was shorter, the integrated sights had been removed and most of the cooling and firing action had been replaced. The resulting weapon still had all of its original power, but now had an increased rate of fire. The woman responsible for the frankensteinian creation stood waiting for his verdict. Lucille stood a little over five and a half feet tall. Dressed like some street punk from her battered combat boots to her short, spiked electric blue hair she was the very image of Disobedient Youth. None of this mattered to the arms dealer because she was a natural with both the maintenance and use of nearly all weapons and this thing was no different.

"Do you think he'll be able to manage the recoil?" he asked after ensuring the weapon worked.

"He's a big guy boss. I doubt it'll be a problem."

"Fine. Pull the sink he'll be here in about an hour." With that the old arms dealer left to deal with the mountain of paperwork required to operate legally in the in his small office he marvelled at his luck at being told to take her on. She was more skilled than any of the other youths that applied for the job . The only issue Sikorskie had; was her habit of treating the entire warehouse as her home, despite the small suite of rooms that she had been given to live were part of it and not the entire building. All things said when an alliance admiral asks you to hire someone as a personal favour the smart man does it.

Soon the buyer arrived a massive scared krogan mercenary by the name of Brutor. Most would be surprised by the by the krogan's very polite nature toward the woman, but Lucille had earned his respect only a few months ago. Shortly after her arrival a stand off in the wards had caused her to open fire on a man. The official C-Sec report stated she assisted in the apprehension of a criminal during a hostage situation. The majority of the citadel knew the story of the young human who put three deliberate non-lethal shots into a man across a room, and more impressively, past a struggling hostage.

Sale completed, Lucille announced she was leaving for the evening. Moments later she was in Purgatory, the club filled with the normal assortment of civilians looking for a good time, mercenaries looking for a good drink and off duty C-Sec officers trying to avoid looking at anything. Taking in the room practice eye Lucille moved toward the bar. Sitting alone was an asari huntress, quickly getting a drink and sitting next to the young woman she started to relax. Less than an hour and more than a few drinks later both Lucille and the huntress knew exactly where the night was heading.

The next morning Lucille's room had it's tranquility shattered by a shrill alert. Groaning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Lucille disentangled herself from the azure beauty beside her before picking up the offending data slate . The message was short and to the point much like its sender no more than a dozen words to say when they will come and where they should meet. Leaving the slate on a workbench Lucille starts to get dressed worried what she was getting herself into this time.


End file.
